


The Lovesick Girl

by michaely



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Canon Compliant, Chloe cameo!, Coming of Age, Epilogue, F/F, Female Friendship, Friendship, Light Angst, Rachel cameo!, Reconciliation, Teen Angst, Teenage Drama, in Sacrifice Chloe timeline, only light hints of romance, some Brooke/Warren cutesiness for fans of that, takes place before BtS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28487805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michaely/pseuds/michaely
Summary: "Love is a drug that I quit. No doctor could help when I'm lovesick." - Blackpink, Lovesick GirlsThe new girl breaks into the scene of this sleepy coastal Pacific town. She catches everybody's attention with her charm, talent, looks, and attitude. She inspires an opinion, positive or negative, in all who meet her. But there's even more lying underneath that she's needing someone else to see.An epilogue takes place in the Sacrifice Chloe timeline and examines the implications for not only our two heroines but for many other major characters too.
Relationships: Brooke Scott/Other(s), Brooke Scott/Taylor Christensen, Taylor Christensen/Other(s)
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Nov 2009**

“Get! In! There!” Brooke Scott shouted.

She rammed her shoulder against the door to her closet, the confines of which have been stuffed with a mass of dirty laundry large enough to exhibit its own gravitational pull. With a mighty final shove, she forced the door shut, and upon hearing the click of the latch, she heaved a hearty sigh of relief.

She allowed herself a handful of seconds to sit with her back leaned against that door. There was time for perhaps one deep breath until she caught sight of the red Kit-Kat Klock hanging on the wall.

“Shit!” She was gonna be SO late.

She ignored the stinging ache in her shoulder as she hastily pawed with her hands to sweep the clutter strewn on top of the desk (half-eaten chocolate bars, nubby erasers, vintage Batman trade paperbacks, AP calculus exam prep books, crumpled up sketches of concept art for novelty Gundam mechs) into the opened drawers.

Finally, imagining that all the empty Pepsi bottles, Pringles cannisters, and Double Stuf Oreo wrappers are tiny soccer balls, she used her feet (which by the way are not wearing matching socks because who has the time to match socks?) to kick them all under her bed. She throws her extra large comforter over the mattress so that it hangs over the sides and covers all the trash that’s now hidden beneath.

After pulling her dark hair into a ponytail and throwing on a sunflower yellow hoodie over her Super Metroid T-shirt, she rushed down the stairs as quickly as her legs, clad in gray tights, would carry her. She barged into the kitchen of the Scott household and threw open the pantry to snatch out a packet watermelon Pop Tarts.

“What about breakfast?” Mrs. Scott asked as her daughter tore open the packaging with her teeth.

Meanwhile, Mr. Scott sits at the dining table alongside Brooke’s younger brother Cory. The two of them are enjoying a traditional morning meal of miso soup, sticky rice, and broiled whiting.

With her mouth now full of pastry treat, Brooke replied, “I can’t!” She swallows hurriedly. “I’m late!”

“Did you clean your room?” inquired Mrs. Scott.

“That’s why I’m late!” Brooke hollered back.

She raced to the garage and mounted her black Vespa 946, which she nicknamed “Bullseye” after the horse from Toy Story. She’d certainly have to “ride like the wind” now.

* * *

“You’re late,” Warren Graham admonished. “I’ve watched, like, three episodes of Boondocks by now.”

Brooke was winded from sprinting through the Blackwell Academy parking lot and out to the front lawn. “Dumbass brother...” she sucked in a few more heavy breaths, “Tattled about my room.”

“I see. Well, that is one benefit of your parents having marital problems. No one can bother to give a shit about chores anymore.”

Brooke plopped herself down on the springy grass and set her messenger bag next to her. Catching her breath at last, she posited to him, “What would you say are the odds anyway? As in, divorce or reconcile?”

“I guess maybe 70-30 divorce.”

“Yes!” Brooke thought she was being discrete.

“What?”

She wasn’t.

“Nothing!”

“Is there some kind of betting pool on my parents’ marriage?”

“No way!” She tried to laugh it off as she reached into her bag and withdrew her Nintendo DS. “Let’s just get on and play.”

The boy shrugged and booted up his own device.

They often got together on the Blackwell lawn to play Mario Kart DS. Brooke actually had Mario Kart Wii at home, but Mrs. Scott wouldn’t let them play when she was there, citing “excessively intense competitive investment” between the two of them.

“Prepare to eat exhaust,” he taunted.

“Suck a bag of dicks, Graham,” she countered.

Perhaps Mrs. Scott had been right.

* * *

Warren fell back onto the grass, his limbs splayed out in resignation.

“Booyah!” Brooke hollered in victory.

“How is this possible?” he lamented. “I practiced all week with Daniel.”

“That’s because Daniel always uses Donkey Kong, but his drifting doesn’t mean shit on those straightaways!”

He covered his face with both hands, releasing an extended groan afterward.

“Making worthwhile use of school WiFi, I see,” announced a commanding voice.

The two turned their attention to the stout figure of Principal Raymond Wells.

“Yo, Principal Wells!” Warren rose to his feet and offered a fist bump, which went promptly ignored. “Burning the weekend oil, I see?”

“You’re correct, Mr. Graham,” was Well’s dry response. “They don’t pay me nearly enough.”

“You get paid?” Warren asked in jest. “I always thought you were a, well, ‘slave’ is not the right word. Because of your...” Warren waved his hand in front of Wells’ face.

For his part, Wells simply cocked an eyebrow at the boy.

“Just stop,” Brooke beckoned to her friend in exasperation.

“I’m greeting a new student who’s transferring in soon,” Wells eventually explained. “Actually, here she is now.” He looked over to the stairs leading up from the parking lot. “Please excuse me.”

“I was just making a joke,” Warren explained to Brooke.

“Not even remotely appropriate,” Brooke chided him.

Wells made his way to meet a tall blonde woman and a girl, presumably the daughter, with flowing hair of a similar hue to her mother (although in a style featuring bangs). The girl wears a jean jacket, dark gray tank top, black boots, and, quite confusingly, given the weather of coastal Oregon in early fall, low-rise daisy dukes.

“Who’s the new girl?” Brooke inquired, mostly to herself.

That’s why she was a bit surprised when Warren had the answer. “Her name’s Taylor Christensen.”

Brooke looked back at him quizzically. “How do you know?”

“Student government asked for a volunteer to show her around campus. They paid for a lunch for us at Two Whales. She’s pretty cool, I guess. Chill, but a little aloof if you ask me.”

Brooke noticed how Taylor’s shifty-eyed and pouty expression practically screamed “Get me the fuck outta here.” Her arms were folded sternly across her chest.

“Why’s Wells rolling out the red carpet for her?” Brooke asked Warren.

“Probably because her father is Hugh Christensen.”

“Hugh Christensen of PrestigeNet?” Brooke recalled the profile she recently read in her business administration class about the recently promoted CEO of the company which provided network administration services to broadband streaming platforms.

“That’s the one. My guess is Wells is hoping he can brownnose his way into a large charitable contribution for the school. We need it too. Those Bunsen burners in the lab, you might as well be heating up beakers in a brushfire.”

As Wells and Taylor’s mom chatted, Brooke found her gaze lingering. She saw Taylor like an encroaching thunderstorm. Electric, thrilling in how powerful and momentous she seemed, with the promise of lighting up the scene like no other force in the world. Taylor shifted her glance ever so slightly to catch Brooke’s brown eyes. In the span of a single blink, Taylor lifted the corners of her mouth to an ever so minute degree.

And that was how Taylor cast the first sparks.

* * *

Later that week, Brooke was performing her usual pre-lunchtime duty of taking the beakers from Professor Grant’s classroom and returning them to the other lab. The lights had been off when Brooke stepped inside, which is why she was surprised to find Taylor there. Taylor sat on a stool near the open window with her legs folded at a precise geometric angle. The disassembled smoke detector lay on the nearby desk, and a Chesterfield cigarette was tucked in between the index and middle fingers of her right hand.

“Oh!” Brooke exclaimed. “Sorry, I...” She pushed her glasses higher up on the bridge of her nose. “Sorry to interrupt.” She proceeded with her assigned task, placing the equipment back in its respective cabinets.

Taylor exhaled a smooth, continuous plume of smoke from her puckered lips. “Really, it’s fine,” she assured in a husky tone. “Unless you’re gonna tell on me?” She playfully glared at Brooke through mellow blue eyes.

“No.” Brooke scoffed, trying to come off as casual as possible but still sounding not a little forced. “Of course not.”

“Attagirl.”

For some reason, Brooke’s heart leapt a centimeter at having received this measly bit of praise from Taylor.

“We haven’t been properly introduced.” Taylor removed a few sheets of tissue from her Saint Laurent leather bag and bundled up her cigarette butt to snub it out. “I’m Taylor.”

“Right,” Brooke replied, “Warren told me he’d met you.”

“Oh yeah, you were with him at the quad this weekend.”

Brooke nodded in affirmation.

“He your boyfriend?” Taylor poked.

“What?” Brooke giggled bemusedly. While she’d be lying if she denied that her imagination wandered every once in a while, she hadn’t ever felt the compulsion to really take things further with Warren. “Me and him? No, we’ve just been friends a while.”

“Probably for the best,” Taylor commented. “He’s nice enough, but there’s something of a ‘I’m gonna sniff your hair when you aren’t looking’ kinda vibe about him, no?”

Brooke couldn’t contain her laughter at this jape (at least she hoped it was) toward her friend. Maybe a little meanspirited in nature, but it couldn’t be denied that this Taylor girl had wit.

“I dunno,” Brooke responded, “He and I have always just tried to keep it simple. Friendly, you know?”

Taylor sighed. “I’m jealous. Must be nice just to enjoy each other for who you are, leave all the broken promises and unfulfilled expectations out of it.”

She retrieved a bottle of Mitsouko perfume from her bag and spritzed a mist on herself.

“You got a name, Not Warren’s Girlfriend?”

“I’m Brooke.” She held out her hand.

Taylor accepted the handshake with all the prerequisite cordiality. “Nice. But forgive me if I’m being too bold. You don’t _look_ much like a Brooke. _Nihonjin desu ne?”_

Brooke lifted her eyebrows, a little surprised that this girl, the type who Tom Petty must’ve had in mind when he wrote that “American Girl” song, actually knew a bit of Japanese.

“ _Mochiron_ ,” Brooke affirmed. “My brother and I were born here, but my parents are from Kochi.”

“So what do they call you when you cue up an order of katsuo tataki at the local izakaya?”

“My middle name is Emi.”

“Emi-chan, I see. Very pretty. What’s the kanji?”

“Well, uh...” Brooke scans around for pen and paper or maybe even some chalk for the board. “It’s a bit difficult to explain when I can’t write it.”

Taylor presented her with a marker. All manner of useful tools coming from that bag today, Brooke took note.

“Show me on my arm,” Taylor requested as she extended her forearm to Brooke.

Brooke gently took Taylor by the wrist and began scribbling the characters “絵美” onto her skin.

Upon completion, Taylor studied the text for a moment. “Beautiful...picture?” was her best guess at the translation.

“Very good!” Brooke praised. “I’m impressed.”

“I think I was just named after my uncle. He runs a sanitation company in Newark. You got a proper kickass name.”

Brooke wordlessly smiled back.

“But let’s put that to the test.” Taylor pointed her phone at Brooke, who could barely sneak in a blink before Taylor swiftly snapped up a photo.

“Um...wha?” Brooke was still stammering helplessly when Taylor showed her the picture. Surely enough, it was Brooke’s expression of equal parts stupor/confusion.

“Your parents got it right,” Taylor remarked. “Beautiful.” She punctuated the last remark with a smooth-as-a-baby’s-bottom wink, which left Brooke bashfully shuffling her feet.

“Although...” Taylor pulled up another app on her phone. It seemed to be some kind of rudimentary Photoshop, and she used it to add some streaks of deep blue and red highlights to Brooke’s hair.

“What do ya think of that?” Taylor proudly presented her creation to Brooke.

Brooke first regarded the image with a slight puzzlement, followed by an amused chuckle. “I’m not a hundred percent I can pull that off.”

“My dear...” Taylor strolled up to Brooke and looked her quite intently in the eyes. “It’s all about attitude.”

Brooke found herself strangely captivated by the sheer gravitas Taylor assigned to that one unassuming statement.

Taylor concluded, “You’re lucky one of these days, I’ll show you exactly what I mean.”

With that, Taylor sashayed past Brooke and out the door of the classroom. Brooke could feel an odd force in Taylor’s undertow. What was it that made Brooke so compelled to follow?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know many writers here employ the prompt system in order to find inspiration for what to write. Most of my ideas come from listening to some of my favorite music, and in this sense, I'm "prompted" by the songs I hear. These are some of the works which motivated me toward this story.
> 
> "Enchanted" by Owl City https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C9HEnhlilrA. This is how I decided I wanted to write something about Taylor. The hearsay is that Adam Young recorded this cover because of his crush on Taylor Swift, who performed the original version. Forgive me if I'm so bold as to say I'm writing about the cooler Taylor.
> 
> "Absolutely" by Nine Days https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIANBamMgas. This song captures more of the overall themes I'm trying to touch on with this story, a girl who at face value has such captivating elements to her character and ensnares the attention of the world at large. And yet, there is an underlying sadness to her tale, and this makes having her in your life a complex proposition indeed. Still, you keep feeling this compulsion to find a way to rid her of this sadness, lest she ends up crying a river and drowning the whole world.
> 
> "Lovesick Girls" by Blackpink (in your area) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dyRsYk0LyA8. I wanted to explore some wider interpretations of what "love" means. To be "lovesick" doesn't necessary mean you're missing the romance and lust. If love encompasses wider topics of the human experience, then it's possible to be "sick" for many other elements of your life.
> 
> If you're curious, I'm a Lisa bias without any bias wrecker because Lisa doesn't get wrecked. She is the one who wrecks you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I Won't Say I'm In Love" - Susan Egan https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ljPqUYkEXFQ
> 
> "By the Sea" - Helena Bonham Carter and Johnny Depp https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O1-lkTgl-ws&t=67s
> 
> "Take Me Or Leave Me" - Aaron Tveit and Gavin Creel https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=43gvHOOrFSo
> 
> "At the Beginning" - Christy Altomare and Zach Adkins https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EgqXg9qPefE
> 
> "Don't Say" - The Chainsmokers and Emily Warren (Felix Palmqvist & Severo Remix) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yk-aSrYBpaM

The senses of the typical American teenager are already overloaded with an abundance of stimuli. It can be hard for any one individual to stand out in the crowd. However, there certainly remains one surefire way to get all eyes on you: put Victoria Chase on her ass.

Brooke didn’t figure it was Taylor's intention to call attention to herself. After all, it was just an unassuming game of soccer during an afternoon PE class.

Brooke watched as Dana Ward picked off an errant pass from opposing midfielder Alyssa Anderson. With the other side seemingly overcommitted to their attack, Dana deftly fed the ball to Taylor who was streaking up the sideline. By the time Taylor took control of the ball, Brooke could see Victoria moving in on defense.

Brooke had already heard all of Victoria's fanciful tales of how her prep school squad had claimed Washington State's Junior Championship the previous year, so Brooke figured Victoria must've been feeling her chances against the new girl. It looked as though Victoria assumed the dribble to be going to the right, where there was more space for the attack to develop. Taylor feinted to that side with a short jab step, which Victoria bit on instantly. With her foe now out of position, and in the length of time it took for Brooke to give a single blink, Taylor juked to the entire opposite side and blew right past Victoria. Brooke could hear Victoria let out a hapless yelp while tumbling to the grass bottoms-first.

Meanwhile, Taylor lobbed a cross to the center area in front of the goal, and Chloe Price, using her height advantage against defender Juliet Watson, rose into the air and headed the ball past keeper Courtney Wagner.

Brooke had never been the most willing athlete, so typical of most PE classes, this time she was content to watch the action unfold far away from the fray. And even from a distance, as she saw Taylor exchange high-fives with her teammates, Brooke could already get a sense of Taylor's effortless magnetism. Even from a distance Brooke already felt the draw as well.

* * *

"Who does she think she is anyway?" 

While pulling her ash gray hoodie over her head, Brooke clearly heard Victoria's very vocal protests. Brooke stepped to the front of the locker room to find Victoria and Courtney retouching their makeup before the mirrors.

"She gets lucky with one move..." Victoria shuts her compact with unnecessary roughness, "And she wants to go hot dogging all around campus?"

"So classless," Courtney concurred.

"And I'm supposed to be fooled by that drugstore box blonde dye job?"

"Please, you could see those roots from outer space."

"Whoa, See Dub getting savage today." Victoria puts her fingertip to Courtney's shoulder and mimics a sizzling noise to emphasize Courtney's sick "burn."

It was then when they noticed Brooke's reflection in the mirror.

"Um," Courtney regarded Brooke with an eyebrow raised in contempt. "Can we help you, Scott? You lose something over here?"

Victoria chimed in after, "Or maybe you're spending too much time around Warren, and you're picking up his creepy staring habit?"

The two share a thoroughly self-amused giggle.

Brooke heaved a sigh as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. The time had long passed when she'd grown tired of all the smack talk from the Chase-Wagner dastardly duo. "You know, Victoria, I really wish we wouldn't fight so much." 

Brooke walked up to Victoria and, knowing Victoria was especially touchy about anyone putting wrinkles in the super fine fabric of her pricy cardigan, Brooke placed an excessively firm hand on Victoria's shoulder. Predictably, Victoria scowled back at her.

"There's no reason we can't find common ground," Brooke continued in feigned earnestness. "Why, I bet if we looked close enough, we'll find we really aren't so different."

Victoria shrugged away Brooke's hand with patent hostility. "You put your hands on me again..." Victoria leaned in closer so the intensity in her eyes was even more evident, "You'll be pulling back a nub." Victoria turned back to Courtney now. "Let's go."

"Wouldn't know your head from your ass without your queen, would you?" Brooke shot at Courtney.

"I'll stick with my circle," Courtney replied as she collected her cosmetics back into her bag. "You and your band of trolls can have your claim to whichever bridge you crawled out from under."

Victoria also slung her purse over her shoulder. She and Courtney marched out while making special emphasis to point their noses high in the air. 

"Fuck's sake." Brooke removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes with her free hand. Sometimes she had to bemoan the fact that she shared a species with those two.

The metallic clang of a locker slamming shut wrested Brooke's attention. When she was able to get her glasses back on her face she saw Taylor walking forth. She was wiping at her eyes, and Brooke could make out a sniffle.

"Hey," Brooke tried calling out in a palliative tone. "Don't listen to--"

Taylor spoke abruptly, "It's fine." She didn't slow in her pace as she stomped out of the room.

* * *

"Uno," Daniel DaCosta declared.

"Again?" Warren asked in disbelief. "Are you cheating?"

"Counting cards is a matter of simple probability," Daniel explained quite plainly.

"So you are cheating!" Warren turned to Stella Hill and Brooke, who were also engaged in the card game. "Can we please play something that Rain Man over here can't manipulate?"

"Actually," Stella said as she rose from her chair, "I've got physics homework to finish."

"Right, and I need to copy off you," Warren recalled.

Stella just rolled her eyes.

While her guests were gathering their belongings, Brooke remembered one last thing. "Oh hey, the Winter Showcase is coming up. The theme is musical duets, so I need a partner."

"Count me out," Warren immediately responded. 

"Pardon me, I forget," was Brooke's sardonic reply. "It's not music unless it's written by some drugged out 50 year old British guy."

"Pretty much."

The girl sighed hugely, turned to Stella. "How about you, Stella?"

"I'm gonna be out of town," Stella said with regret. "My cousin's getting married, so we're going back to India."

"Can you get me one of those statues of the elephant with a bunch of arms?" Warren requested.

"I'm not a Sky Mall catalogue," Stella plainly responded.

It was now Brooke's turn to roll her eyes at Warren. Afterward she addressed Daniel. "Daniel, you're my last hope."

"I dunno..." Daniel uneasily rubbed the back of his neck. "I try to avoid the spotlight. It's why I play bass."

"Can you at least think about it?" Brooke tried her best play at batting her eyelashes.

In response, Daniel made a weak noise, something akin to the air leaking out of a balloon.

"Just lemme know before the month ends, OK?"

Daniel gave a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders. With that, Brooke's guests started on their way out of her basement. 

As he left, Daniel had one last question for Warren. "If I'm Rain Man, does that make you Tom Cruise?"

"Dude, I'm already taller than him."

* * *

The next day just before lunch, Brooke went to return the beakers from her chem class to the other lab. Taylor was there smoking once again.

"Strong play yesterday," Brooke remarked.

Taylor offered back a gentle smirk. "Not everyone felt that way."

"Who, Victoria? Don't pay attention to the Countess of Monte Fuckface. Or her League of Extraordinary Dickwads."

Taylor finally felt enough at ease to allow a snicker. "No love lost between you guys, I see."

"They shouldn't get to go around treating people however they want."

"Pushing back against the established order isn't always the easiest thing."

It was then when a bout of inspiration struck Brooke's mind and set her synapses ablaze. Her eyes went wide and she snapped her fingers at what she felt was a sudden stroke of genius. "But you know how we could put a huge fly in their ointment?"

"I'm intrigued..."

"Last month was Blackwell's Battle of the Bands, and Victoria hasn't shut up since about how she won. But in a few weeks there's the Arcadia Bay Winter Showcase. If Victoria lost this one, I just know her panties will be such a wad, she'll be ruining the mood for her flock of harpies well into next year."

"And how could we put that idle daydream closer to reality?" Taylor asked, her intrigue officially piqued.

"Perform something with me," Brooke proposed. "If it's us who bump her off, she'll never be able to live it down!"

"How do you even know I can sing?"

"Well, right now my only other option is Daniel, and on his best day he sounds like Kermit the Frog swallowed a harmonica."

Taylor kept that sly grin as she took another drag of her Chesterfield. She exhaled, directing the plume of smoke out the ajar window. "There's something you need to know about me, Emi-chan." Taylor placed her spent cigarette butt in a napkin, dribbled a little saliva into the bundle to put out the flame. "I'm not planning on being here for the long term."

Brooke tilted her head quizzically.

"My mom moved us because she and dad got into another one of their ridiculous spats," Taylor went on. "She ran away, taking her time on her hissy fit, but it's gonna end the same way it always does. She'll realize she misses the country club too much. He'll buy her another Mikimoto necklace. We'll visit our beach house in the Bahamas to make up, then right back to our milquetoast yuppie existence as usual." Taylor spritzed herself a few times with her perfume. "So I'm not looking to ingrain myself into the community or anything. And I definitely don't want to be in some power play up the social ladder. I think it's better if I just keep a low profile."

"Oh." Brooke pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "OK. Sorry, I didn't mean to presume. I just thought it might be a fun little thing between us."

"And I appreciate it." Taylor walked up to Brooke and looked her in the eye with endearing candor.

Brooke is struck at how this simple little gesture immediately banished any pangs of rejection she was feeling just a few moments ago.

"But I have a feeling," Taylor concluded, "You and I are gonna be having our own adventures before too long. Sound good?"

It was then when Brooke found her head swimming with possibilities. She found that there was something in Taylor which ignited her imagination, opened her up to a tantalizing array of boundless new opportunities.

* * *

"D5," Daniel stated.

"Fuck! That's my battleship!" bemoaned Warren. "Are you cheating again?"

"It's just a matter of studying your previous placement patterns--"

"Forget it, I don't even wanna know." Warren checked the time on his phone. "I have to go anyway."

Brooke looked up from the Warhammer figurine she was painting. This declaration from Warren caught her attention because she knew damn well the entirety of his social scene was already in her basement right now.

"Go where?" Brooke asked him.

"Rehearsal for Winter Showcase," Warren said as he pulled his parka over his shoulders.

"So you're gonna be in it?"

"Yes." He didn't look her in the eye while slipping on his mittens.

Brooke wasn't about to back down on her curiosity over his sudden change of heart regarding the performance. "With who?"

"Can't tell you."

"Why?" She pressed.

"Because."

"Because why?" At this point it was more about not backing down from his stubbornness.

"Because...because!" With that, Warren turned on the heel of his Converse sneaker and ran up the stairs, his shoes thudding against the carpet as he retreated.

Brooke scratched her head. "'Because be--' What is this, the Land of Oz?" She turned to Stella, who was reading a vintage issue of Squirrel Girl. "You believe that guy?"

Stella simply shook her head. "Whenever he's that cagey, it's almost always about a girl."

Daniel chimed in, "Bitches, huh?"

"OK, no more NWA albums for you," Brooke admonished him.

* * *

The Winter Showcase had, all in all, gone pretty well in Brooke's eyes. While Victoria undoubtedly put up a formidable effort with a rendition of Susan Egan's "I Won't Say I'm In Love" from Hercules (of course, Courtney was only allowed to sing the backing vocals of the Muses), Brooke took plenty of pride in how her and Daniel's performance of "By the Sea" came out. Also, she had managed to convince Steph Gingrich to design some killer nautical outfits, and their strikingly pallid makeup made for an eye-catching visual. Another highlight was Zachary Riggins and Logan Robertson putting on a genderbent version of "Take Me Or Leave Me." How could you not guffaw when Zach said "Kiss, pookie"?

"And now," MC Juliet Watson announced, "The final performance of the night, a newcomer to the Arcadia Bay Winter Showcase. Performing 'At the Beginning,' from the 1997 animated feature Anastasia, it's my pleasure to present Taylor Christensen, joined by Warren Graham."

As the audience produced cordial applause, Brooke's jaw hung uselessly slack. So strong was her sense of stupor, she might as well have just stared point-blank at a flashbang. 

As the gentle piano riff played from the sound system, the spotlight illuminated Taylor in her elegant crimson formal gown.

"Something wrong?" Daniel tried to shake her from the trance.

_"We were strangers, starting out on a journey,"_

"But..." Brooke sputtered. "She..."

_"Never dreaming what we'd have to go through."_

Try as she might, not even one coherent symbol could be summoned in order to convey her feelings about this development.

_"Now here we are, and I'm suddenly standing_

_At the beginning with you."_

Could she have properly classified this as hurt? But then why did it hurt? Taylor took specific precaution to not promise anything to Brooke. Where was the expectation to be dashed? Brooke wondered if she had the right to this disappointment.

_"No one told me I was going to find you."_

By the time Warren stepped onto the stage in his humble peasant boy costume, Brooke had already unconsciously risen from her seat. 

_"Unexpected, what you did to my heart."_

Entirely on autopilot, Brooke took the plodding steps out of the auditorium. The music and singing were muffled as the heavy metal door shut behind her. And so too did she feel like her grip on the present reality also becoming hopelessly obscured.

* * *

The Monday after the show, Brooke felt a sense of dread as she went to return the beakers to the other lab. Upon finding Taylor sitting on the stool by the window, Brooke immediately darted her glance away from Taylor.

Brooke shuffled her way to the cabinet and made the perfunctory motions to place the beakers in their respective resting spots.

"I'm sorry," Brooke heard Taylor call out.

Taylor didn't address her with heartrending remorse, but Brooke could still find an authentic sense of caring in Taylor's tone.

"I don't want it to look like Warren and I were hiding something from you," Taylor went on. "I just was trying to avoid drawing too much attention, keep a low profile, you know? I asked him not to tell anyone, so it wasn't just you."

"I..." Brooke tucked some loose strands of hair behind her ear. "I see."

"I honestly wasn't planning on participating, but then I found out there was a cash prize."

"You...need money?" Brooke was a little perplexed, given Taylor's posh outfits and designer handbags. Mitsouko wasn't some discount fragrance you could just buy at the pharmacy, either.

"Dad's been slow to pay my allowance recently. My parents are both being particularly hardheaded right now. And we've got that class trip to Hawaii over winter break. That won't be cheap."

"Oh. Well," Brooke reached behind her head and tightened up her ponytail. "I've been picking up some extra shifts at my mom's restaurant. If you need to borrow money or something..."

"That's sweet of you, Emi-chan, but I'm not in such dire straits yet. Thanks, though. It means a lot for you to offer."

Brooke gave a simple nod in response. Taylor smiled back as she puffed on her cigarette again.

"I'm glad you won, actually. You deserve it," Brooke stated.

"You don't have to flatter me." Even so, Taylor was still smirking from the praise.

"Really, your voice is so beautiful."

"Don't sell yourself short, either. Anyone who can carry Daniel to a halfway decent duet deserves some props."

"He never claims to be Pavarotti, but he tried his best."

The two girls laugh together in jest. Brooke took some time to marvel at how Taylor could so simply and effortlessly put seemingly any situation into ease.

"Who taught you about music, anyway?" Taylor inquired.

"I'd have to say it was my dad."

"That Salt and Pepper Captain America dude who picks you up from school?"

"Oh," Brooke chuckles in amusement at Taylor's clever characterization. "Mr. Scott is my stepdad."

"Ah, I was just about to say I didn't notice much of a family resemblance with you two. Nor do I take him to be the Rodgers and Hammerstein type."

"No, Tom's idea of musical theater is the Notre Dame marching band playing the school's fight song."

Taylor took her turn to laugh now. Brooke found a modest joy in being able to bring some happiness to her.

"He's great, though," Brooke continued. "Always been there for me, taking extra steps for me. Last year he picked up a bunch of overtime at the mill so he could buy me my drone for Christmas. I didn't learn to ride a bike until I was about 10, he taught me."

"Your birth father was the musician, then?"

"Yes, he and my mom first moved to America because he got a job playing cello for the LA Philharmonic."

"Whoa, impressive. You're a Cali girl, then?"

"I was for a little while, I guess. I don't really remember the place, I was so young."

"You still get to see him?"

"Um..." Brooke pursed her lips. "He got arthritis in his hands. Couldn't play anymore." She had to swallow the lump in her throat before going on. "So he killed himself."

Taylor fell into a somber silence.

"It ended up being this huge scandal back in their hometown," Brooke elaborated. "My grandparents were saying the neighbors would gossip all the time. When my mom got remarried, she had us change our name in the family register. Sometimes I think it's because she resents my father for abandoning my brother and me, like he chose his music over us."

A chilling stillness hung in the air for a while.

Taylor spoke up at last, "It can be really hard. Losing something you had spent so long working for, obsessing over it, believing it's the only thing that matters. That kind of trauma can really ruin your perspective of everything else. You lose sight of what's been there all along." Taylor daintily took Brooke's hand, gave it a subtle squeeze. "Your dad lost sight of his love for you. He didn't lose the love itself."

Unlike when she first walked into the room, now Brooke was gazing full on into Taylor's steely blue eyes. Brooke noticed such immense intention behind them. It gave Brooke the impression that Taylor could ascertain truths about Brooke's life that Brooke had yet to grasp herself.

"In the meantime, try to appreciate your stepdad," Taylor gently instructed. "People who care about you like that are hard to come by."

The school bell rang throughout the halls.

"I told Warren I'd meet him for lunch," Brooke announced.

"Sure."

"Thanks." Brooke gave an appreciative smile. "For everything."

"Anytime."

As Brooke pushed open the door to the classroom, she looked back at Taylor, nursing her cigarette once more. For how much conviction Taylor spoke with, Brooke wondered just how familiar Taylor personally was with that process of losing perspective.

* * *

Brooke fell back onto her hotel bed, her body both achy and drained from spending the entire waking day in transit. She had long been looking forward to the class trip to Hawaii. The prospect of one week in winter when she didn't have to go to sleep with multiple pairs of underwear just to stay warm was enough of an appeal for her. But still, whoever had claimed it should be about the journey and not the destination, Brooke was quite certain they were full of shit.

Her roommate for the trip was Alyssa, who initially offered for Brooke to join her in catching the shuttle to visit Pearl Harbor, but Brooke preferred to just have a nice and easy lie down, maybe order a room service sundae for later.

Brooke took a deep breath, letting the scent of the room's pine tree air freshener fill her nostrils. This was the one bit of respite she was allowed, as soon thereafter came a knocking on her door. She went to answer it and found Taylor on the other side.

Taylor greeted her with an impish grin. "Hey. Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure." Brooke moved aside and allowed Taylor to step in, the door shutting behind her. "What's up?"

Taylor brushed away a few errant bangs away from her eyes. "This is really embarrassing of me to ask, but..." She audibly groaned. "Is your offer for a loan still available?"

"Well, sure. What happened? Is everything OK?"

"The dumbasses at the airline lost my luggage. All my money was there. The $500 from the Showcase and everything!"

"Wait, the whole cash prize was $500. You didn't split it with Warren?"

"I asked him if I could maybe have his share as an advance. I'll pay him back once my dad gets caught up on my allowance."

"Right...OK."

"But now I don't even have that!"

"No, don't worry." Brooke walked over to her duffel bag and picked out an envelope from within. "How much do you need?"

"Maybe..." Taylor wrung her hands with unease, "Just a couple hundred."

Brooke reached into the envelope and counted out a series of twenty dollar bills to total 200. "Here." She handed the stack over to Taylor. "I wasn't planning on spending too much here anyway."

Taylor heaved a hearty sigh of relief. "I promise I'll try to get this back to you as soon as I can."

"Take your time. It's OK."

"You're the best. I seriously don't deserve you."

"Don't be silly."

Taylor beamed a warm smile as she placed the money into her purse. "I don't wanna keep you too long. See you at dinner?"

"Yeah, definitely. Are you dreading poi as much as I am?"

"That stuff is gross. But trust me, spam musubi is surprisingly tasty."

"OK, I'll reserve judgment till then."

Taylor opened the door, but before she fully exited, she turned back to Brooke once again. "By the way, please don't tell anyone about this. Low profile and all. OK?"

"Yeah, of course."

Taylor nodded in agreement, then walked out into the hallway.

* * *

_"Dropping bombs and cups of coffee."_

As the golden sun sets over picturesque Waikiki Bay, Rachel Amber is putting on a live performance (with musical arrangement composed by Daniel) on the hotel patio for her classmates.

_"You said it hits you all at once."_

Brooke is nursing her Shirley Temple and letting the balmy breeze caress her cheek. Now this is a vacation, she mused to herself.

_"I'm already tired, and it's the morning."_

As she takes another sip of her drink, she notices Chloe Price, Blackwell's resident stone-faced badass who never lets another living soul fluster her impenetrable facade. Chloe Price of all people is watching Rachel like some awestruck fangirl.

_"Then you clear your throat._

_Deep down, I know that this is done."_

"Pretty, isn't she?" Brooke posited as she walked to Chloe, who jumped a little in her seat.

"Wh-what?" Chloe fumbled her response as her attention was wrangled back into this reality.

"Mind somewhere else?"

Chloe bit her lower lip. It didn't do much to hide the mischievous smirk creeping out. "Yeah, maybe."

"You could just talk to her, you know."

"I'm not sure I have many words that would interest Malibu Barbie."

"That's assuming she's interested in your words."

Chloe dips her fingers into her glass of ice water and playfully flicks a few drops at a chuckling Brooke.

"What about you then?" Chloe counters. "I've heard about you canoodling with the new girl in the chem lab. You think your secret's safe just because it's in the dark?"

"There's no 'canoodling.' By the way, where'd you find a word of the day calendar from 1965?"

"Ha ha," Chloe laughed dryly.

"She and I actually do just talk. She's really cool to talk to."

"Yeah, I like her a lot too. I dunno what it is, it just feels like she and I have these similarities and connections on this super deep, unknowable level. You get what I mean?"

"Yeah, I think I do." Brooke is pleasantly surprised for it to be Chloe of all people who has so far provided the best exposition into the effect Taylor has had on people.

"A shame what happened with her on the flight. Airline losing her luggage and all."

"She told you about that too?"

"Yeah, I ended up loaning her a few bucks."

"You..." Brooke recoiled a little in confusion. "You did?"

"Why not? She seems good for it."

"That's funny. She told me about her luggage earlier today as well. I actually gave her a little money too."

"Well..." Chloe shrugged and took another sip of water, "I guess she could use all the help she can get."

_"Don't say, don't say you're human."_

"I guess." Brooke didn't like it, but she felt an instinctive unease. 

_"Don't say, don't say it's not your fault."_

She realizes that for some reason, she had been just assuming that she was the only one Taylor's ever been reaching out to. Was it possibly a bit too childish or self-centered for her to be thinking that way?

_"I won't take the bait or these excuses that you're using."_

Then again, Brooke also understood that one of Taylor's appeals was her ability to make you feel like you were in fact the only one. Would Brooke have engaged with her for this long had it been clear from the beginning that it wasn't quite so?

_"So don't say, don't say you're human."_

* * *

Later that night at dinner, Brooke had spotted the spam musubi on the buffet line, and recalling Taylor's advice, snatched up a few pieces.

Brooke then felt a tapping on her shoulder and turned to see none other than Taylor herself.

"Did you tell Chloe about lending me money?"

Brooke was rather taken aback by how forceful Taylor was this time around. There didn't seem to be any trace of the composure and smooth tact that Brooke had gotten so accustomed to.

"Y-yes," Brooke admitted. "It just kinda came up in small talk."

"It's not 'small,'" Taylor scolded her. This also causes Brooke to flinch. "I specifically told you not to talk about it with anyone."

"I didn't think it would be a big deal."

"Then start thinking." Taylor crossed her arms and let out a contemptuous scoff. "If I had known you were such a Chatty Cathy, I never would've asked you in the first place."

With that, Taylor hastily turned away and pushed her way past the crowd of her classmates.

An unusually chilly breeze comes roaring in at that moment. So much for staying warm during vacation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's admittedly been a while. I think maybe I started to burn out at the end of last year. I must give my thanks to Veronica_Lake who recently invited me to officially become a co-contributor to her Chasefield story, titled "De-confusion." After helping her out with the most recent chapter, I feel like I rediscovered a lot of what I found to be fun about writing in the first place, and that in turn compelled me to get back on board with what I've been working on for myself. For now I hope you guys can enjoy this one, but I've also been working my brain for some concepts that I can put into motion on my own. It's good to be back.
> 
> The line that Brooke puts out to Victoria about how they aren't so different isn't a mere throwaway. If you don't get it, please feel free to look up who is Brooke's voice actress. Now see who is Victoria's voice actress.
> 
> And what about the "connection" that Chloe feels with Taylor? Well, check out who is Chloe's VA. And what about Taylor?
> 
> ^_^


	3. Chapter 3

After returning home from Hawaii, Brooke asked to be excused from her duties of returning the beakers to the chem lab. She wasn’t in any frame of mind to be visiting with Taylor anymore.

Of course, having come to this resolution, Brooke also had to concede she probably won’t ever see her $200 again. Never mind, she told herself. Anything else involving Taylor is likely better left alone.

On the other hand, Brooke did notice Taylor starting to get chummy with Stella. It started when Stella got back from her trip to India. Apparently, Taylor had some flattering words to say about the henna that Stella had gotten at her cousin’s pre-wedding party. Stella started eating lunch with Taylor in the empty lab. During their usual hangouts in the Scott family’s basement, Brooke started hearing more and more stories about how awesome Taylor’s house was. There was reportedly a heated pool. The den had a projector system for watching movies on a 140-inch screen. The personal chef had set up an omelet bar for brunch on Sunday. 

In a way, Brooke felt somewhat glad for her. Stella had largely been the reserved type, and it didn’t come so easily for her to make friends. To be entirely truthful, Brooke’s relationship with Stella had always felt more a result of both of them having been friends with Warren and Daniel. Had the two boys not been in the picture, it’d probably be difficult to imagine she and Stella having much to do with one another. And Brooke knew that Taylor did have much to offer as a companion. Hopefully, money could be kept out of the equation.

* * *

During an unassuming, lazy Saturday morning in early February, Brooke was tucking into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough while watching My Neighbors the Yamadas on her laptop. It was then when a call from Stella popped up on her phone.

“Hello?” Brooke answered, wiping a dribble of ice cream from the corner of her mouth.

“You’re the only person I could think of to call!” Stella sounded in a clear panic.

“What? What’s wrong?” Brooke inquired in concern.

“Taylor said we were just supposed to just be going to a concert in Portland, but now she wants to stay the whole weekend! That was her plan all along.”

“What the literal fuck?” Brooke cried out in disbelief.

“She says it shouldn’t matter how long we’re gone. She’s already bought the bus tickets. I don't wanna have to lie to my parents!”

“Just let Taylor go by herself, since she wants to leave so badly.”

“Her mom only let her go because I’ll be with her,” Stella bemoaned. “What should I do?”

Brooke squinted in puzzlement. “Why are you asking me?”

“She told me you let her borrow the money for the tickets.”

Brooke nearly crushed her phone in that moment. So the story about the lost luggage had been a ruse all along.

“You’re her friend too,” Stella implored. “Can’t you convince her?”

* * *

Against her better judgment, Brooke hopped aboard Bullseye and rode down to the local Greyhound station. A still harrowed Stella ran up to her as she entered the lobby.

“Thank goodness you showed,” Stella said in a panic. “She’s in the bathroom.”

“I still don’t get why you don’t just tell her off,” Brooke posited.

“She really wants to see her dad. I feel sorry for her,” Stella explained.

“This is about her father, then?”

There came the hollow noise of the heels to Taylor’s boots against the tile floor. She regarded Stella and Brooke with equal parts confusion and frustration.

“What are you doing here?” Taylor accusingly called out to Brooke. “Did Stella call you?”

“I get that you miss your dad,” said Stella, “But we shouldn’t be lying about it. Can’t we just tell your mom where you’re really going?”

“She’ll never allow it,” Taylor growled resentfully. She crossed her arms in front of her chest in a huff.

Brooke heaved an exasperated sigh. “Stella, go home. Tell your mom you started feeling sick suddenly. I’ll go with Taylor.”

Taylor cocked her eyebrow. “You will?”

“My folks went to Salem to visit Tom’s parents,” Brooke said. “Cory’s got cash for pizza. No one will even notice I’m gone.”

“You’re sure?” Stella asked her.

Brooke wavered just a split second before nodding in confirmation. Taylor had previously promised an adventure for Brooke. Now that she’s actually faced with it, Brooke started to wonder if she’s gotten in over her head.

* * *

The bus had just passed Glenwood when Taylor spoke up again, “You ever been to Portland?”

Brooke took a pensive sip from her can of Pepsi. Her relationship with Taylor had become such that even the motive behind small talk needed to be questioned.

“A few years ago,” Brooke eventually answered. “PSU was hosting a robotics conference for junior high students.”

“I really liked it there. We’ll have to get something from Voodoo Doughnut while we’re in town.” Taylor dabbed at her cheek with some foundation. She shut the compact and gingerly placed it back into her clutch. “What made you decide to come with me anyway?”

Brooke reached behind her head and tightened up her ponytail. “I know what it’s like to be missing a father. If you’re so determined to see him, I figure you deserve some help.”

Taylor gave a slight nod in affirmation. “This really does mean a lot to me. I’m gonna ask him to let me move back in with him.”

“You don’t like living with your mom? Stella tells me your house is pretty kickass.”

“Mom is fine. The house is fine. It’s just...” Taylor brushed some errands blonde bangs away from her face, “I just KNOW I don’t belong there. It’s like, I look in the mirror and I don’t even recognize myself. I know it’s just the background that’s changed, but I swear I feel myself changing too.” Taylor looked back at Brooke. Her usual crystal-clear blue eyes turned deathly serious. “It scares me sometimes.”

Brooke blinked a few times as she returned Taylor’s glance. Brooke had always seen Arcadia Bay as her home, and she’d never had the sensation that she was out of place there. Then again, with so much conviction behind Taylor’s words, Brooke even began to feel an unease creeping into her bones, so real was the sense of dread conveyed by Taylor.

* * *

From the Greyhound station in downtown Portland, Taylor hailed a taxi bound for the Vista North Pearl complex of luxury condos. The girls boarded the elevator and took the ride up to the 21st floor, reserved only for penthouse units. Taylor rang the doorbell, which sounded with a merry chirp. She picked some lint off the sleeve of her denim jacket while waiting for an answer. 

It wasn’t too long before the door eased open to reveal a middle-aged man with the same crystal-clear blue eyes as Taylor’s. His slicked back hair was starting to gray, but the streaks of brilliant blonde could still be made out. Brooke recognized him from the headshot that had been featured in the profile she read for her business administration class. This man was Taylor’s father, Hugh Christensen. Even in his casual outfit of polo shirt and neatly pressed khaki slacks, he retained the same air of authority and significance he exuded while donning the sharpest three-piece suit.

“Taylor...” The man regarded his daughter quizzically. “What a surprise.”

“Oh, you know me, daddy,” was Taylor's sly reply. “Always full of surprises.” Taylor sauntered through the threshold as if it were she herself who owned the place. “By the way, this is Brooke, a new friend I made at Blackwell.”

Brooke entered with a meek wave toward Mr. Christensen. 

Taylor walked over to the dining table, upon which laid a spread of grapes and cheeses.

“Having ourselves a party?” Taylor playfully inquired.

“Well…” The man rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort.

“Hugh? Is everything…” A slender woman with wavy dark hair and hazel eyes stepped in from the kitchen. Dressed in a smart combo of a black silk blouse plus checkered tweed A-line skirt, she carried a bottle of pinot in her immaculately manicured hands. “OK?”

“Ah…” Mr. Christensen looked to the woman, back to his daughter, back to the woman again. He walked over to stand beside his lady friend. “Amanda, you remember my daughter, Taylor?”

Brooke couldn’t help but be struck at how the statuesque Amanda stood eye to eye with Mr. Christensen, no gremlin in the height department himself.

Amanda turned to Taylor, tried to summon up a cordial smile. “Yes. Of course.”

“How are things with you, Mandy dearest?” Taylor asked with a sneakily devilish grin spread across her lips. “Still slinging cocktails at the country club?”

“That was several years ago, honey,” Mr. Christensen politely reminded his daughter. “Amanda was recently promoted to Director of Guest Relations.”

“Wow.” Taylor placed a hand on her chest in feigned admiration. “Moving on up in the world mighty fast, aren’t we?”

Mr. Christensen addressed Amanda as discretely as possible, “Perhaps now isn’t the best time.”

“Agreed,” was her simple reply.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?”

She offered back a simple nod and picked up her Coach handbag from atop the coffee table. After slipping on a turquoise shawl around her shoulders, she made one final attempt at geniality toward Taylor. “It was nice to see you again, Taylor.”

“Oh, being in your presence is always the highlight of my day, rest assured,” came Taylor’s sardonic response.

Amanda looked back to Mr. Christensen, giving him a resigned sigh. He shook his head in defeat as he shut the door behind her.

The man turned to Taylor now. “I suppose you’re here because you want to talk.”

“That’d be nice, now that your booty call’s already left.”

Mr. Christensen shook off that last jab with a curt “I’ll meet you in the office.”

Taylor flipped her hair away from her shoulder and marched down the hallway.

“Feel free to make yourself at home,” Mr. Christensen instructed Brooke, and he too walked out of view.

Brooke seated herself on the plush down cushions of the tan leather couch. She flipped on the TV and started watching a TBS broadcast of My Cousin Vinny.

It was at the scene when Joe Pesci was trying grits for the first time when Brooke started overhearing the conversation between the Christensen father and daughter. Or rather, she couldn’t help but overhear it.

“What do you mean I can’t?!” Taylor hollered.

“The judge was very clear about it,” Mr. Christensen tried more to moderate his voice. “He didn’t want you living with me because I’m away so often for work.”

“I don’t need anyone to look after me. I’m not a child! I can stay here by myself!”

“Taylor, try to see some sense. You need a stable home. With adult supervision.”

“So you want to strand me in that fucking HICK town while you bang some skank who doesn’t have enough brain cells to mix a Mai Tai correctly?!”

“Amanda has gone out of her way to be nice to you, every single time she’s seen you!”

“Does mom know?!”

Brooke removed her phone from the front pocket of her teal hoodie. Putting her earbuds into place, she played the first song she could find, at full volume.

_“What can you do with a girl like that?_

_Taking everything, giving nothing back.”_

* * *

Once she noticed Mr. Christensen walking down the hallway back towards the living room, Brooke removed her earphones and stood up to greet him.

“We haven’t been properly introduced.” He held out a sturdy hand to Brooke. “Hugh Christensen, Taylor’s father.”

“I’m Brooke. Scott.” Brooke reached out too and shook his hand with what she had hope was the correct firmness befitting of decorum. “I go to school with Taylor.”

“I want to thank you, Ms. Scott. For looking after her. Not just today, but seemingly ever since she got to that school. She tells me you’ve made an exceptional effort to make her feel welcome.”

Some good that’s done me, Brooke inwardly remarked.

Mr. Christensen then handed over a plain white envelope. “I understand Taylor owes you some money. You’ll find the sum contained there. I speak for her when I say I appreciate yet another favor you’ve done for her.”

Brooke took the envelope into her hands. She peeked inside to spot the series of 20-dollar bills.

“I’ve taken the liberty of booking you a room at the nearby Embassy Suites,” he continued. “A long journey deserves a good night’s rest. I can see you didn’t have the opportunity to pack a bag, so when you get there, ask for Ivan. He’s the best concierge in town. He’ll be able to procure anything you need for a comfortable stay. My driver is waiting downstairs to take you.”

Brooke breathed a sigh of relief. At last she felt she’s encountered someone who has a handle on the situation.

Mr. Christensen walked her to the door and held it open for her. Before she stepped out completely, he recalled one final thing.

“Brooke, I realize my daughter is not the easiest person to understand,” he confessed in a hushed, introspective tone. “She doesn’t always have the capacity to communicate what she really needs. So she behaves in ways that aren’t really speaking to her true character. But I always like to think that those who care about her won’t ever lose sight of who she truly is.”

In the brief time she’s known Taylor, Brooke couldn’t be sure she’d ever even gotten sight of who Taylor truly was.

“I’m not entitled to be asking you any favors,” Hugh went on, “But it’s my sincere hope that you can continue to remain patient with her. She has so much potential to do good for others. But she’ll only ever get there with support from people like you.”

Brooke pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I…” She bit her lower lip in hesitation, before ultimately continuing, “Sure, I can try.”

“You’d have my genuine gratitude,” Mr. Christensen concluded. And with that, he retreated back inside the confines of his home and shut the door.

On the elevator ride back down to ground level, Brooke had to ponder what exactly was making all these people come to her with these insanely demanding requests for taking care of Taylor.

* * *

Brooke fell back onto the plush hotel bed. Mr. Christensen hadn’t exaggerated the capabilities of Ivan the concierge, who had managed to secure for her a set of cozy flannel pajamas. She had just polished off the last few bites of a bacon cheeseburger from room service. It wasn’t quite Two Whales, but it was a reliable font of comfort after the especially taxing day. Even though it wasn’t so deep into the evening, her eyelids felt heavy and she was feeling quite certain she’d be dozing off any moment now.

But then came the knocking on her door. The unassuming noise was enough to snap her senses back to full attention. She walked over to the door and checked the peephole. Taylor stood there, tucking loose strands of her blonde locks behind her ear. A Hello Kitty rolling suitcase stood next to her. Did Brooke even have the right to be surprised anymore when Taylor showed up? Taylor seemed to be persisting like a bad habit.

Brooke opened the door for her. “Is everything OK?”

Taylor looked down at her boots, which were shuffling in discomfit against the carpet. “Can I stay here tonight?”

Brooke gestured for Taylor to come inside, and the other girl did so. Taylor parked her suitcase at the foot of the bed. She sat down atop the smooth, warm linens, her shoulders heaving as she exhaled a massive sigh.

“Something wrong with your dad?” Brooke asked, immediately becoming reticent about learning the answer.

“My room is completely ruined,” Taylor explained through gritted teeth. “The wallpaper got changed to dark green.”

In a huff, she sprang up to her feet and stomped over to the minifridge. She swung open the door and seized a can of Heineken. After swiftly popping off the tab and bringing the drink to her mouth, she started gulping with vigor. After a few hearty swallows, she went on, “All the pots are enamelware. Who uses that shit anymore? I bet you anything it’s Amanda’s doing. She’s always had tacky tastes.”

Taylor threw her head back and downed the rest of her beverage with abandon, then moved on to a Modelo. When she spoke once more, she was left trying to catch her breath again. “When my parents were fighting, I was always on my dad’s side.” She walked back over to the bed, this time throwing herself fully onto the mattress. She stared up blankly at the light fixtures. “But now he’s not on my side.”

Brooke took a moment to wring her hands, not entirely certain what the bounds for this conversation had become. “I don’t think you should be on anyone’s side,” she finally offered. “They’re both your parents, after all.”

“I envy you sometimes, Emi-chan. The world must look so simple in your eyes.” The girl sighed hugely, eventually curling up on her side in fetal position. “I just wanna go to sleep.” Realizing that Brooke was still just standing there, she had to add the next bit: “The sofa is comfortable, I’ve slept there before.”

Brooke couldn’t keep her jaw from going slack. Taylor once again upping the ante with the level of gall she displayed.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Taylor asked, still lying on her side and not even bothering to face Brooke.

Brooke gave a few disgruntled shakes of her head, all the while chuckling in bemusement, in confusion over how Taylor had consistently gotten away with stunts like this. “No, I guess I don’t.”

* * *

Brooke awoke the next morning to the noise of the blow dryer. She sat up from the couch and walked over to the bathroom to find Taylor, wrapped up in one of the hotel’s fuzzy robes and styling her golden mane.

“Good morning,” Taylor said as she caught sight of Brooke in the mirror’s reflection. She shut off the device. “Did you sleep all right?”

Despite the sleeper sofa being slightly firmer than she would’ve liked, Brooke still found it overall suitable, as Taylor had claimed. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“I’m meeting a friend of mine for brunch,” Taylor announced while applying a light mist of hairspray. “I think you and Alex would really hit it off. Do you wanna tag along? I dragged you all the way out here, I figure I oughtta take you out once.”

“Um...” Brooke rubbed her eyes. “Sure,” she eventually replied, still slightly drowsy.

“Great. We leave in about 20?”

* * *

As with most matters involving Taylor, the full picture wasn’t quite as simple as initially presented. Taylor’s friend Alex was more specifically Alex, her ex. More specifically, her ex-girlfriend, Alexandra.

She must’ve been a bit older, judging by the sea breeze green Audi she pulled up to the valet before greeting Taylor and Brooke in the lobby of Coquine. Alex’s dark brown hair bore highlights of a violet/red hue. Her light gray eyes peeked out from behind the rectangular frames of her glasses. She had these high cheekbones that framed her face ever so flatteringly when she laughed.

Alex and Taylor seemed to have had the benefit of knowing ahead of time the dress code to this fine eatery. The blonde wore a short-sleeved sky blue blouse with a pattern of gray vertical pinstripes. A navy miniskirt and a white cardigan draped over her shoulders, plus a pair of beige wedge sandals, rounded out the outfit. The brunette had on a sleeveless cardinal red minidress of a 1960s era John Bates aesthetic. Her Steve Madden vala red stiletto pumps were decidedly more modern. Ivan the concierge had arranged for Brooke’s hoodie and leggings to be laundered, but her overall getup didn’t jibe with her surroundings or her companions at all.

“Imagine my surprise when you asked to meet up,” Alex remarked. “And a new girlfriend already, huh?”

Brooke almost did a spit take with her seltzer water but managed to refrain just in time.

“Brooke’s not my girlfriend,” Taylor softly clarified. “She was just worried about me, so she offered to accompany me to Portland.”

Well, that’s one interpretation, Brooke thought to herself.

“And you’re one to talk,” Taylor went on. “As soon as I left, you got together with Camila.” Taylor then addressed Brooke. “Wouldn’t you be shocked? She and I date for a year, and right when I’m gone, she’s gotten together with a friend of mine.”

Brooke hadn’t the slightest clue what sort of insight she was expected to contribute to this, so she resorted to her reliable fallback of stark honesty. “I really feel like it happens all the time.”

Taylor responded quickly with a slight giggle as she turned back to Alex. “Nothing surprises her.”

Alex joined in with a light titter of her own. “Well, why don’t I call Cammy? You and Brooke can join us to catch something at Northwest Film Center in the afternoon.”

“My dad’s already treating us to lunch,” was Taylor’s polite rebuke.

“Such a shame you’re only here for the weekend,” Alex pouted. “But I know how your mom can be. Must’ve been a hassle just to convince her for you to come at all.”

“You’re telling me.”

“She should’ve let you stay in the city. You’re going to college here anyway, right? Instead, she had to drag you away to Palookaville.”

Brooke let out an audible scoff.

“Something wrong?” Taylor checked with her.

“Yeah.” Brooke rose from her seat, making sure the sound of the chair legs scooting against the floor was especially obnoxious. “I just don’t find myself being able to give a shit. About any of this.” She looked straight to Taylor.

“Come get me when you’re ready to go back. I’ve had quite enough of ‘the city.’”

Without offering Alex the courtesy of a farewell, Brooke marched her way out of the restaurant. On the cab ride back to the hotel, she noted how Taylor always seemed so strong and self-assured, and yet back here, where she presumably considered to be her home, all she could focus on was putting on a show in a bid for someone else’s approval. Brooke had always believed home was meant to be a place that brought out the best in you. What could be said of the effect “the city” had on Taylor?

* * *

Having left the restaurant without eating, Brooke ordered an eggs benedict from room service. When a knock sounded on her door, she assumed it was the delivery, but was greeted by Taylor instead.

“Alex wanted me to tell you she’s not mad.”

Brooke shrugged her shoulders in disinterest.

“I'm sorry, though.”

Brooke took more interest in that.

“I invited you because I was trying to show her I hadn’t devolved into some pitiful loner.” Taylor had to avert her gaze out of embarrassment. “I felt stupid afterward.”

Brooke eventually chimed in, “You shouldn’t have to feel bad on account of her. She’s not worth it.”

Taylor sighed hugely. “You’re right.” She finally managed to look back at Brooke. “I was so shocked. She wasn’t at all like I remembered. When we were dating, she’d been kind and thoughtful. Now all she wants to do is talk about herself.”

“Sometimes people change in surprising ways.”

“Nah, this is her true personality. I just hadn’t noticed before. When you’re near someone, it’s really easy for them to distract you. They’ll put right in your face only those things that make them look the best. I got so distracted by these individual parts of her that were so charming and beautiful. But now that I’ve stepped back, taken some distance, I can see the whole picture. I can see those other parts that maybe aren’t so appealing.”

“It’s better to know the truth, no?”

Taylor pursed her lips as she pondered this for a second. “Definitely.”

“Did you get to eat? I ordered some breakfast if you feel like sharing.”

“That’s sweet of you. As expected. But I’m just gonna go back to dad’s, get ready for the return trip. I’ll meet you at the station by 5?”

Brooke nodded in affirmation. As Taylor turned to walk down the hallway toward the elevator, Brooke thought about how she had by now observed Taylor both up close and at a distance. And yet, Brooke believed she was no nearer to a final understanding of this girl’s “whole picture.”

* * *

When Brooke had walked back through the front door of her house, Cory was still playing Super Mario Galaxy in the living room, exactly as he had been when she left early yesterday. Had he even moved since then?

“Yo,” Cory greeted her. “How was the trip with your girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Brooke responded dryly.

“I don’t have any problem if you’re a lesbo. But just letting you know that’s gonna be even more pressure on me to provide the grandchildren.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head," Brooke assured him while trudging on up the stairs. “I’ve heard they now have this thing that looks like a giant turkey baster.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Let's Groove" - Tips & Tricks Vs. Wisdome https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6vHy0fswIYc
> 
> "See Me Cry" - Sleepwalkers ft. Merseh https://youtu.be/EBycoRDljoA
> 
> "Ma Boy" - Sistar19 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X6XXia5B2Wg (Yes it was famous before TikTok)

"And then he just says," Warren can hardly contain his glee at being able to reveal the punchline "'I told her what time it was.'"

The normally measured and even-keeled Daniel uncharacteristically howled in laughter. "That's hilarious!"

"Yeah, we gotta watch it soon." Warren turned to Brooke, who was still retrieving the last of her books from her locker. "You wanna join, Brooke?"

"Pass," she replied dryly. "I don't get Michael Cera's appeal. He's Jerry Seinfeld with an eating disorder, who cares?"

As the trio starts on their way down the hall, Warren remembered to ask one last thing of her. "Hey, my mom wants to know what color corsage you're wearing."

She squints in confusion. "What? Why?"

"She's coordinating my boutonniere."

"I..." She throws up her hands and shrugs. "I still don't follow."

"Prom," he states. "Aren't we going together?"

She gapes at him. "And how, Inspector Clouseau, did you arrive at that conclusion?"

"Well..." He rubs the back of his neck. "Who else are you gonna go with?"

Her face tightens into a glower. "So the only reason you're asking me to prom..." She takes a heavy step toward him. He starts shrinking back immediately. "Is that you believe poor little Brooke must be too pathetic to have any other options?"

"N-no, I didn't mean that."

"You listen to me," she growled at him, "You want to go to prom with me, you think of a PROPER way to ask me!"

Warren seemed so immensely terrified of Brooke's swelling bout of anger, he must not have noticed that he was getting backed down. He jumped in fright as he felt his body bump into the cold metal of the lockers behind him.

"Or," she continued, "You can stay at home and gawk at some more erotic fan art of Fran from Final Fantasy 12. It really makes no difference to me."

She finally relented and took a step away from him. Despite being given some space, he still didn't dare budge from his defensive posture.

"You're gonna be late for class," she reminded him at last. "Go already."

He took a few cautious steps away from her, never breaking eye contact with her, as if fearful she might pounce on him from behind to eat his head. After those few steps, though, he had a bright idea for how he might salvage the situation.

"Hey," he said, trying to keep a hushed tone in the interest of discretion, "Are you on your period or something?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she hollered at him. "Leave!"

This sent him scampering away. Brooke needed a moment to massage away the pulsating ache in her temples. 

"Are things OK at home?" Daniel asked, out of genuine concern.

"Sorry," Brooke said with a groan, "It's not been easy for me lately.

"You mean with Taylor?"

Brooke felt a prickling tension encroaching further into her skin at the mention of the name.

"I heard about your guys' trip to Portland," Daniel clarified.

"From who?" Brooke asked in alarm.

"It's kinda just been going around school lately."

"Fuck's sake," Brooke said with a weary shake of her head. "Look," she removed her glasses and took some time to rub her eyes, "Let's change the subject. For example, do you have a date for prom?"

"Nah. I actually had asked Taylor."

When is she gonna give it a rest, Brooke remarked to herself. First Warren at the Winter Showcase, then Stella after the Christmas break, and now Daniel.

"What'd she say?" Brooke inquired with no small sense of trepidation.

"She turned me down," Daniel stated plainly.

Brooke wasn't sure how to take the news. On the one hand, she feels bad for Daniel's rejection, but perhaps it's a blessing in disguise in order to avoid all the drama that inevitably trailed behind Taylor. What he said next, however, sent her into an irrevocable rage.

"She said she's not a chubby chaser."

Brooke's jaw locked up as she began gritting her teeth. "That's it." She stomped her way to Classroom 116, where she knew Taylor and Stella would be waiting before their social studies class.

Surely enough, Taylor and Stella were seated in adjacent desks and making chitchat.

"I personally think you'd look better in red," Taylor offered.

Brooke didn't relent in her step as she marched up to Taylor. "Who do you think you are?"

"Um..." Taylor regarded her with a sideways glance. "Yeah, good morning to you too." She doesn't bother getting up from her seat.

"How dare you talk that way to Daniel? What's he ever done to you?"

Taylor rolled her eyes. "For your information, your friend has been after me for weeks. I'm running out of polite ways to tell him no."

"That doesn't mean you can just treat people however the hell you want!"

"You know, if you feel so much pity for him, why don't you take him to prom? I'm sure a bout of yellow fever will strike him pretty soon."

"You..." Brooke's knuckles turned pale as she squeezed hard her fists. "You really are the WORST! You know that? You steal money from Warren, you almost kidnap Stella, and now you insult Daniel. You ruin things for EVERYONE! You don't even respect your own father enough to let him date who he wants."

Taylor now rose resolutely to her feet. She glared at Brooke dead in the eyes. "At least my dad didn't get so sick of my bitching, that he went and fucked off forever."

Brooke's eyes went wide. In her vision, the image of Taylor's face got replaced with a giant target reading "STRIKE HERE." And so Brooke did just that. Brooke seized Taylor by her denim jacket and threw her onto the linoleum floor. Brooke pounced on her prey who was still momentarily dazed. Brooke grabbed a fistful of blonde hair with one hand and used the other to rain down blows. Brooke imagined she must've been grunting savagely, and she could even see Taylor's face contorting as she must've been crying for help. But all semblance of sound seems to have evaporated from Brooke's senses because all she really could notice was the dull thudding sensation in her fist as it slammed into whichever part of Taylor happened to be in the way.

It wasn't long thereafter when Brooke felt a sturdy pair of arms around her waist, and then it was she herself who was getting yanked away. The adrenaline was dumping out of her with haste, and she could make out swim coach Michelle Barenchi rushing to attend to Taylor.

"Get her away from me!" Taylor shrieked. She had largely been successful in using her arms to shield her face from Brooke's assault, so luckily she hadn't been too bruised and bloodied there.

As she felt the arms unclasp from around her, Brooke heard the voice of PE teacher Ms. Edwards from behind. "Principal Wells' office. Now!"

* * *

The only point of solace offered to Brooke in this situation is that it was her stepdad who came to pick her up and not her mother. Despite Mrs. Scott's diminutive frame, she carried a fierce streak a mile long, and that especially applied to matters of discipline. At least with Tom, Brooke had a small reprieve.

Brooke was staring out the window of Mr. Scott's pickup truck and pondering if she might make it through the second day of her suspension before her mom had her summarily executed. That was when he spoke up.

"Cory told me about your trip to Portland."

The girl sighed hugely. "That fucking loudmouth." 

"I'm not angry," he was quick to point out. "I was young once too. I remember doing lots of crazy things. Especially if there are..." She noticed his hands gripping the steering wheel just a little bit more tightly. "You know... _feelings_ involved."

She titled her head quizzically. "What feelings?"

"I dunno," he replied in a hurry. "I don't know for sure what you're going through. And it's OK if you're not sure either."

"Wait." The realization is settling in, leaving her with a queasiness in her gut. "You think I'm..."

"And it's OK if you are. Or not. I support your right to be happy no matter what."

"But I'm not!"

"All right, well then it's good to know for sure."

"Well..." Brooke scratched at her head. "I guess I don't know, not _for sure_. I've never really thought about it," she confessed.

"And that's fine. I know it's a lot to process. I know that it won't figure it out just by talking to me. But I am here for you. And we don't have to talk about _that_ in particular. If you just need to get out of your head for a moment, I'm here for that too. We could, I dunno, sneak in a game of foosball or something."

That could at last elicit a light giggle from Brooke. "Sure. That does sound good."

He beamed a comforting smile at her.

She felt compelled to finally be able to say this to him. "It means a lot to me. Thank you." She went to put a soft hand on his stout shoulder. "Dad."

* * *

Brooke didn't relish the thought of having to face Taylor or the rest of her classmates again, but having spent the entirety of her suspension washing dishes at her mom's restaurant (without pay, no less) and having to not only vacuum but shampoo the carpet at home, she was more than willing to return to school.

She caught some sneaky whispers from people when they believed her to be out of earshot, but otherwise her routine wasn't hampered too much.

When lunchtime came, she was passing by the chem lab on the way to the cafeteria. That was when she noticed the door was actually already open, and there were voices sounding out. More specifically, the voices of Victoria and Courtney. 

Brooke quietly crept up to the door and peeked in.

"I'm telling you," Taylor protested. "Fuck off already."

"Are you quite sure?" Victoria asked. "The Vortex Club is one of the most historically prestigious organizations in this school."

Courtney chimed in, "Don't you want to do your part for overall community harmony?"

"'Community harmony'?" Taylor mocked her. "You sound like some dumb politician."

"This is how it's always been with you, huh?" Victoria chided. "Thinking you're too good for everything and everyone."

"Where's your consideration for the rest of the world?" Courtney added.

"What kind of world is this if people can't think of themselves?" Taylor shouted back. "Does the world care about me? I'll take care of myself just fine."

Victoria gave a wry laugh. She strolled over to the desk where Taylor was keeping her Zippo and pack of Chesterfields. Victoria smoothly plucked away one cigarette and lit it. Taylor watched her in contempt. Victoria took a drag and made special emphasis to slowly blow the smoke right back in Taylor's face.

"You're no better than anyone else," Victoria spoke at a measured pace, "Things will go smoother if you bother to learn some humility."

Taylor returned the gesture with an even more intense scowl.

"Thanks for the ciggy butt," Victoria said, grinning smugly as she and Courtney turned to leave. Brooke dashed into an adjacent corner, waiting until Victoria and Courtney walked out of sight. 

Brooke also eventually saw Taylor step past the threshold. Taylor wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. She turned her head to catch sight of Brooke looking on. Taylor's expression immediately turned dour. She grabbed hold of the door handle and slammed it shut behind her.

* * *

"You look really nice tonight," Warren commented. "Shoulda mentioned that earlier."

She gave him an earnest grin. "Thanks." At last she feels validated in her fast from Oreos just so she could squeeze into her teal gown with floral embroidery. 

Truth be told, she was just thinking to herself that he looked decently handsome too. And it wasn't just his change in wardrobe to a powder blue tuxedo with pinstripes and bowtie. Something about how he now approached her, how he approached the world at large, he seemed to be looking at everything with a new clarity, a deeper understanding. Or perhaps it was just his black eye and cheek scar that gave him a more rugged aura. Stella had already told her, "You don't wanna know," in regards to how he got those wounds. The air of mystery was kinda appealing, no lying.

"And I loved dinner too," she said. "Never thought I'd get to go to Rue Altimore, the place costs a fortune."

"Well, that's pretty much all the money I had from shoveling snow this past winter, so I'm glad it was worth it."

"Oh no, I told you we could've gone Dutch!"

"No it's fine. You deserve it." He nodded back in reassurance. "You've always been a great friend to me. I should be trying harder for your sake."

She couldn't help but be struck at the transformation she noticed in him. It had started when he enlisted the school marching band to play "Let's Groove" on her front lawn. It had been a callback to when they first met at the arcade of the local movie theater. Warren was trying to get the high score for that song on Dance Dance Revolution. Brooke started pestering him about hogging the machine, and when he challenged her to do better, it was her initials which were at the top of the leaderboard by the end of the evening.

"I appreciate that," she stated. It was then when she dared to place her hand atop his. She was always thinking to herself how his hands always looked exceedingly well moisturized. And indeed, now that she was making contact, she could confirm these were the softest hands she'd ever felt on a boy.

"Hands to yourself, lover boy," Mrs. Scott admonished from the passenger seat. Her eyes were staring daggers at him in the reflection of the rear view mirror.

"Sorry!" Warren retracted his hand and scooted away from Brooke, as far to the opposite end of the backseat as he could.

"Take it easy, honey," Mr. Scott beckoned to his wife from the driver side.

Brooke shot her mother a similarly potent look of death.

* * *

_"Taking my break_

_From the ashes of you_

_Making mistakes."_

Victoria was featured center stage in her performance, a privilege she won as part of her prize in Battle of the Bands. Despite this, Brooke had resolved to have a good time. 

After all, things ended up all right for her and her friends. Not only did she end up coming with Warren, Stella was asked out by Mikey North.

"When your children are born, are they already near-sighted?" teased Justin Williams. Brooke found plenty of irony in that rib, seeing as how Justin himself also wore glasses.

And since Rachel was spending more time around Chloe these days, Steph agreed to go with Daniel, the two of them forming a so-called Lonely Hearts Club for themselves.

The sextet was huddled around the punch bowl enjoying their beverages before it would inevitably get spiked.

"And the cop was like, 'Not you, Fat Jesus!'" Daniel recounted.

The rest of the group broke out in jovial laughter.

"That is so true!" Steph exclaimed. "Because of the beard and everything!"

_"I don't wanna wake up from the way you make me feel, but"_

Brooke was thinking to herself how lovely the evening was turning out. That is, until the guests of honor (or at least that must've been how they viewed themselves) came waltzing in. There were the usual suspects: Nathan Prescott, Courtney Wagner, Hayden Jones, Dana Ward, Zachary Riggins, Juliet Watson, Logan Robertson, and, in her Burgundy red sequined dress with a beaded net bodice and fringe skirt, was Taylor.

_"I'm getting so sick of your energetic field of"_

Brooke didn't know why she felt surprised. She should've seen this coming when she noticed Taylor running soccer drills with Victoria on the pitch after school.

_"Constantly stuck in lies,_

_No matter where we are."_

When Taylor caught sight of Brooke, she excused herself from her crew and walked over.

_"I just can't emphasize_

_That you're stupid from afar."_

"Good evening," Taylor addressed them with her usual unflappable poise. 

That doesn't really get that much of a reaction from the group.

_"I can see the lies hidden underneath your eyes, and"_

"Hey," Warren finally spoke up, "We were just about to go to the dancefloor. So excuse us."

Stella, Daniel, Mikey, and Steph took their leave, and Warren was soon to follow.

_"Go ahead and try, but I'll disappear in the horizon."_

"You guys go ahead," Brooke instructed. "I'll join you soon."

"You sure?" Warren asked gently.

She nodded back to him, so he goes to join the rest.

_"Don't care what you say._

_I'm not going out my way no more."_

"You look beautiful, Emi-chan," Taylor stated.

Brooke pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. "You too."

_"Go ahead and try,_

_But you ain't gonna see me cry tonight."_

"Making new friends, I see," Brooke went on.

Taylor fiddled with the Mikimoto necklace hanging from her neck. Must've been one of her mother's. "My dad asked Amanda to move in with him." She uneasily shuffled her Stuart Weitzman stiletto sandals "I don't think I'm getting out of here anytime soon."

"I guess in the end you found it unbearable to be mingling with us common folk."

Taylor shrugged. "I'm just used to having a certain status at school."

Brooke scoffed. "Good luck with that then." She turned to leave, but then suddenly felt compelled to take one last reach out there. "You could be so much more, you know."

Taylor was slow to respond, her voice heavy with resignation when she did, "I just want to be OK."

Victoria concluded her performance, and the audience predictably erupted in applause.

"Thanks so much, Blackwell," Victoria spoke into her microphone. "It's such an honor to be here, as your reigning Battle of the Bands Champion!"

The cheers rang out heavily from the Vortex Club contingency.

"But I've decided that this shouldn't be an honor for me alone," Victoria continued. "In the spirit of unity and oneness and everything that makes our Blackwell Academy so great, I'd like to call to the stage a very special guest. She's quickly become a close friend of mine, Ms. Taylor Christensen. Sweet T, get on up here."

The spotlight swung over to Taylor. Brooke was quick to step away from the bright glare. Giving a last look to Brooke which almost made her ache in its finality, Taylor made her way to the stage, and she climbed up the steps to join her newfound compatriot.

Victoria spoke again, "Taylor, I've got the most perfect song that we can treat our adoring classmates to. What do you say?"

Victoria handed another microphone to Taylor, who gave a "Bring it on," in reply.

Victoria began:

_"Let's go._

_S-I-S-T-T-T-A-R"_

Taylor soon to follow:

_"SISTAR!"_

_"Baby, stop breaking my heart."_

_"Oh no!_

_You heard me? No more next time._

_I hope you got that, boy."_

Brooke swallowed the lump in her throat. She hastily made her retreat from the ballroom. Her Saint Laurent suede pumps clicked against the floor of the lobby as she exited the halls of Arcadia Bay Convention Center. She seated herself on the chilly concrete of the steps leading down the sidewalk. She buried her face in her hands, almost felt the first shudders of sobbing reaching her body. But then she felt a warm jacket being draped over her shoulders. She looked up to find Warren beside her. Suddenly she felt at ease, if only barely enough so. She rested her head on his shoulder as the starry night dragged on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wanna know how Warren got those scars? You gotta read "Gone, and So Alone."


	5. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies to any Kate fans out there. I left her fate this way because I have an idea for a Chasefield story (notice how Victoria seems to know where Max is), but the premise necessitates Kate no longer being with us. Time will only tell if that story ever gets written (because the concept would likely be the most ambitious I've ever attempted), but I want to leave the prospect open in such a case.
> 
> How about Sera and Warren somehow winding up together? Well, you'd have to read "Gone, and So Alone" and its sequel "Bad Things" for the full recap of that. While those stories take place in a Sacrifice Arcadia Bay timeline, I imagine that most of the crucial developments can still occur in largely the same manner even in this version of events.

**Oct 2023**

Brooke waits on the curb outside her childhood home. She brushes her flowing dark hair away from the shoulder of her black blazer, which she wears tonight with a matching pleated midi skirt and white satin blouse. 

A rickety Ford Torino pulls up. Through the passenger window she can make out Warren's affable grin. She smiles back too, genuinely glad to see her old friend once again after quite a few years away, although they both wish this were under better circumstances.

This evening is meant to be their high school reunion, typically a joyous occasion in its usual implementation. And yet tonight will also be a memorial for an unfortunate few who weren't able to see their own graduations. When it comes to the Blackwell Academy Class of 2014, their student experience will be inextricably linked to the losses of Rachel Amber, Kate Marsh, and Chloe Price. No one would ever be able to acknowledge that school year without also paying mind to the respective tragedies of those three young women.

"How's the family?" Brooke cordially asks him.

"Dani finally took a shit in her training toilet," Warren announces with no small measure of pride.

"Way to go, Dani girl!"

"You have no idea how relieved I am. I'm SO over diapers."

"You know, I honestly still can't believe you went through with that wager," Brooke says, in reference to the time Warren and Daniel placed a bet on who would be the first to achieve Donkey Kong Country's fabled "Cranky Kong Run" (100% completion in under one hour of play time). The stakes were, of course, naming rights to the other's firstborn child.

"I'm a man of my word," Warren states. "Plus, Sera actually has a great aunt or something named Danielle, so she just says Dani's named after her."

Brooke nods along in affirmation. "It's a shame she couldn't make it. Is she doing OK?"

Warren strokes his chin in contemplation. "It's tough for her at certain times. She's still trying to process some things when it comes to Rachel." 

"I see."

"She'll get through it, though. She's always been a fighter."

"Yeah, I admire her for sure."

"And how about you?" he posits. "Getting ready to pop out a few mini-Brookes of your own?"

"Warren, last week at the gas station, I spent five minutes trying to fit the nozzle for diesel into my car. I doubt seriously I'm ready to be keeping track of another human life."

Warren finds himself guffawing at the anecdote.

* * *

"Are you sure we're not waiting on anyone else?" Taylor seeks to confirm.

She isn't speaking directly to Brooke, simply addressing the group at large. And yet, Brooke feels great relief to be having some, if not positive, at the very least neutral interaction with her. Considering how things had concluded between the two of them, Brooke half expected a showdown of Beatrix Kiddo vs. O-Ren Ishii proportions. Brooke is more than happy with lukewarm impartiality.

"Is Max really not coming?" Stella asks.

"No," Victoria is quick to reply. "She's not." She blinks rapidly, seemingly in an attempt to stifle any encroaching tears. "She probably won't be back for a while."

The ceremony features a performance of "When We Were Young" by Kate's sisters, Lynn on vocals and the elder Marsh sibling on guitar. A slideshow of various photos of the three girls in simpler times plays throughout.

_"You look like a movie."_

Kate's selfie with Alyssa and Stella.

_"You sound like a song."_

Rachel's headshot that was included in the program for The Tempest.

_"My god, this reminds me_

_Of when we were young."_

Chloe holds Bongo in her arms, William tenderly clutching her around the shoulder.

_"Let me photograph you in this light_

_In case it is the last time..."_

One by one, attendees walk to the front of the chapel to light votive candles in tribute to the fallen. David Madsen and Joyce Price actually go together.

Nathan Prescott doesn't ever leave his seat in the furthest back pew. A hulking brute of a man, his presumed bodyguard, stands in the aisle. Not once does Nathan speak to or so much as look at anyone else. By the time the general crowd was preparing to leave, they would find Nathan had already slinked away into the night.

* * *

After such a sobering ordeal, scarcely anybody is quite ready to be alone, and so most of the classmates agree to meet up again at Cool Kappa Karaoke, which in the years since had been acquired by Brooke's family. The evening started with everyone wordlessly nurturing their bottles of domestic beer, all the while a maudlin atmosphere threatened to choke out any semblance of verve in the crowd.

Taking special sympathy on her patrons, Mrs. Scott surprisingly deviates from her usual tightfisted tendencies and announces an open bar. Bolstered by stronger liquor and fruitier cocktails, the words and smiles start to flow more freely.

Considering the setting, it isn't long before the group started clamoring for an encore performance from the 2009 Winter Showcase Champions. 

"What's the prize this time?" Taylor jests.

"The undying adulation of your peers," Victoria explains.

"Hmm. I wonder if Saks would let me exchange that for store credit."

"Just get on up there already!" Victoria exhorts. Then to Warren: "You too, Papa Graham."

Courtney takes it upon herself to select the right track, and the twinkly intro to "All For You" by Jung Eunji and Seo In-guk.

Taylor raises the microphone to her mouth, and it was as if she'd never left the stage in the first place.

_"Beolsseo myeochil jjae jeonhwado eobtneun neo._

_Eolma humyeon naui saengil iran geol aneunji?"_

Brooke feels herself similarly transported back to that auditorium more than ten years ago. Only this time, she doesn't have that same specter of betrayal looming over her. She can instead fixate just on the quality of Taylor's performance.

_"Nunchido eobsi siganeun jakkuman heulleogago."_

The classmates break out into a collective rhythmic chant of "Taylor C! Warren Graham! All for you!"

After all these years, Brooke finally gets to see what had the audience so enthralled. The pristine clarity of Taylor's vocals, her magnetic stage presence, the endearing earnestness of her delivery, Brooke finally sees it all in full force tonight. Finally, enough enough distance had amassed between herself and Taylor that a full picture was now visible. 

And Brooke has to conclude that it is in fact a beautiful picture in the end.

* * *

Brooke has an early flight out of Portland the next day, so she decides to call it a night relatively soon. Even though she came with Warren, she doesn't want to force him to leave prematurely, so she calls herself a taxi and goes outside to wait.

She finds Taylor there, Chesterfield placed between her lips. The smoke trail winds its way lazily up into the air.

Taylor greets her with one of those trademark coquettish smirks. Brooke lifts her hand in a meek wave.

Brooke stands next to Taylor on the sidewalk, the two of them about arm's length from each other. For a long while, they just stay in place, both of them staring emptily out into the night sky.

"I know it's bad for me," Taylor finally speaks up.

Brooke turns to her. "Hm?"

"I really am trying to quit," Taylor holds up her cigarette.

"Oh," Brooke returns a cordial smile. "I'm sure you can do it. You've always accomplished everything you set your mind to."

Taylor gives a light giggle. "I wouldn't say everything." She taps at her cigarette, letting a few specks of ash drop to the concrete. "I wanted to be better to you." She shifts her gaze directly into Brooke's. "I really did."

A chilly breeze blows a few strands of hair in front of Brooke's eyes. She brushes them away. "It was a long time ago."

"And yet the more I think about it, the more I realize how much it meant to me, that you were there." She removes some tissue from her Saint Laurent bag, places the smoldering cigarette butt inside, douses the flame with some of her saliva. "I didn't really understand everything about my situation, couldn't understand what my problems truly were. So I went every which way trying to find whatever fixes I could. And when I actually woke up enough to realize where I was, what kinda life I'd actually built up for myself, I found out I'd wandered pretty far away from what mattered. Truth is..." The girl sighs hugely. "I would've lost it without you, Emi-chan."

Brooke contemplates what meaning she's supposed to glean from these sentiments so many years later. Then again, had she heard this all that time ago, what would have been her capability to make something of it all?

A cab pulls up to curbside.

"Is this you?" Taylor asks.

Brooke offers a short nod.

Taylor takes a single pensive step toward her. Taylor bites her lip, as if wary of too much escaping out of her mouth. In the end, she just settles on this: "I know it's impossible for us to get back to how we were."

Brooke jumps a little when she feels her hand getting scooped up in Taylor's.

Taylor makes one final entreaty, "But can we try not to be strangers anymore?"

With her free hand, Brooke pushes her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. She eventually decides to offer up a gentle squeeze back to Taylor's hand. "Sure," is her spartan reply.

The corners of Taylor's mouth rise just ever so slightly. The two young women release their respective grips on one another's hands. Brooke climbs into the backseat of the cab.

As the car pulls up to the red light and signals for the right turn, Brooke sneaks one last look back at Taylor. Once more, Brooke is overcome with that thrilling sensation of just about anything being possible.


End file.
